


Tell me you love me

by Ludusrae



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Art, Couch Cuddles, Crying, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Glasses, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Oliver is a good boyfriend, Painting, Protective Boyfriends, Romance, Sad, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Indulgent, Soft Oliver, Swearing, alex needs validation, and reassurance, but not a lot, he literally can't see shit without them, i love them, kind of a lot?, legally blind character, oliver is me when i paint, oliver loves his boyfriend, oliver needs glasses, sad Alexander, soft boyriends, they swear, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23224600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ludusrae/pseuds/Ludusrae
Summary: Oliver's just painting the day away, albeit frustrated as hell, and his boyfriend Alex get's home. It doesn't take long for things to get a little emotional. It's all soft and cute, just Oliver comforting his insecure boyfriend. They're soft as hell.
Relationships: oliver mason/alexander holmes, oliver/alex
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Tell me you love me

**Author's Note:**

> These are my oc's and this is my first fic and I'd really like it if you'd like... like it? Is that what you do here? I don't know. Comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you! :))

Oliver sighed, pushing up his glasses. He leaned back, staring at the pure disappointment some could call art that sat on the canvas in front of him. It mocked him. 

“Fuck,” he huffed, pushing his glasses to sit on top of his head instead of on the bridge of his nose. “Pfft, it looks better when I’m blind.” 

It was a mess of colours, mostly blues, and purples. It was meant to be a sky with clouds and hopefully would have a bridge eventually, but the colours had blended weirdly, leaving it looking more gray and yellow than the intended design. The yellow was almost a close comparison to his hair; dirty and almost brown. 

Rain pattered against the apartment window softly and Oliver could hear the wind whistling from outside. He shivered, pulling his blanket more securely around his shoulders. Maybe it was a little risky to have a blanket around so much paint, it littered the floors and there was barely any room for anything more than his tubes of acrylics and charcoal crayons, but he was cold. Besides, it was an old blanket. 

He scratched at his nails, chipping the red nail polish even more than it had already been as he tilted his head. No matter how he looked at the mass of colours on the surface it looked bland. He groaned, loud and dramatic. 

“This is shit! Why does it look like that? How did I manage this?” He paused. “...aaaand I’m talking to myself. Fucking--” A door slam and shuffling sounded from the next room. 

“Alex?” Oliver called, throwing the ice cream lid he’d been using as a surface for his paints on the desk to his right and pulling his glasses back down as he slid up from his stool and peaked his head out into the hallway. Alex was shucking his shoes off at the door, fumbling with the bag in his hand and his phone, jacket already hanging on the coat hook, wet and dripping. 

“Yeah?” he called back, shaking his head of any extra water. Oliver snorted and walked across the hall to steal the bag from his hand. 

He peeked inside the bag as he asked, “why didn’t you just put your phone in your pocket? It would’ve been a lot easier?” 

Chocolate and Copic markers. 

Alex stopped for a second. “Because I… I don’t know, shut up,” was his indignant response. 

Once his shoes were finally thrown into the pile with the rest, Alex knabbed the bag back from Oliver and tugged him toward the living room. The light was already on, only because Oliver forgetting to turn it off when he went into his studio, so the two just sat on the couch. Alex had practically thrown himself over top of Oliver, draping his arms over Oliver’s shoulders and smooshing his face into his neck. 

“Uhh… you good?” 

“Do I need to be bad to cuddle my boyfriend?” 

“No,” Oliver stressed, chuckling while threading his hands through the other’s hair. Oliver couldn’t help but think about how fluffy it was. And how unfair. “You just seem kinda… I don’t know…” 

It was something Oliver had trouble putting into words. He just knew there was something off. He always knew. Maybe it was the way Alex had actively sought out attention and physical comfort. Maybe it was the way he looked just a little too tense and uptight. But he just knew. Oliver deemed it just “a boyfriend thing.” 

Alex hummed, wrapping his arms around Oliver’s shoulders even more. “You weren’t wrong.” 

“Oh?” 

Another hum. Nothing more. 

“Would you like to explain?” Oliver encouraged, moving his hands to Alex’s back instead, gliding up and down in what he hoped was a comforting display of affection. 

“I don’t know,” Alex muttered, it came out muffled and almost undecipherable from his position. “I can’t just talk about my feelings, y’know…” 

“Yeah, I know.” And he did. 

Alex had trouble talking about his problems. It was a constant buffer that liked to poke its ugly little head into parts of their relationship. It was often the reason for their arguments. Alex didn’t express himself very well and it made Oliver feel untrusted. Alex did trust him, somewhere in Oliver’s brain he knew that. But there were times when he’d forget and it would send them both spiraling. 

“You…” Comforting wasn’t Oliver forte, that was usually Alex’s specialty. Saying sweet things to cheer someone up made Oliver feel queasy like he was going to fuck something up. It left him with a sick feeling of uneasiness and fear. But this was Alex and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make him happy. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it,” Oliver muttered. “But… I’ll be here when you want to. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Alex glanced up at him, letting out a small breath as he pressed a kiss to Oliver’s cheek. “God… how are you so perfect?” And Oliver swore his heart stopped for a whole fucking second because no matter how long they were together Oliver could never get used to Alex’s undeniably adorable compliments. 

“Alex! You can’t just… you can’t just say that!” Oliver all but shouted, shoving his face into Alex’s hair. 

“Why not?” and the question sounded so genuinely sincere that it only fueled the fire spreading through Oliver’s veins. 

“You are going to be the death of me,” he spoke into his boyfriend’s hair. Alex let out a dramatic gasp. Oh god. 

“No! Baby, is my cuteness just too much to handle?!” he cooed and it was obvious that he’d finally caught on to what had Oliver so thrown. Oliver laughed and wound his arms around Alex’s waist. 

“Yes, and you need to tone it the fuck down, please.” 

“No.” 

“Asshole.” 

And Alex just smiled up at him with his stupidly precious grin and said, “and yet you still love me.” 

Oliver sighed and dropped his head against Alex’s, pressing their foreheads together. Oliver quickly kissed him. “Yeah, I do, and I realise it was a mistake.” 

“Nope, no returns or refunds, you’re fucked.” 

“Good, I wasn’t planning on returning you.” 

“So you don’t want a refund?” 

“Nah, you’re too cute to give up.” Another kiss. 

“Aww, babe,” Alex wooed and it sounded smothered against Oliver’s lips. Their smiles made it a little harder to actually kiss but that had never really stopped them before. “You’re so sweet.” 

“Mm, sure,” Oliver murmured. He put a hand on Alex’s cheek, pushing a little harder. Alex let out a hum from the back of his throat and pushed just as much back. It wasn’t hard, really, more gentle and passionate. Alex ran a hand over Oliver’s shoulders and tugged softly at the baby hairs at the back of his neck. 

Alex pulled back, staring straight at Oliver with an expression Oliver couldn’t read exactly. He bit his lip and Oliver brushed his thumbs against it. 

“Don’t bit your lip, they’ll get all chapped.” 

“Sorry,” and he didn’t sound sorry at all. Alex kissed his cheek. “Say you love me.” 

“What?” 

“... Please?” 

The tiny plea hit something in Oliver’s chest like a mallet, sending the air from his lungs and puncturing his heart. Alex had sounded so defeated, desperate, even a little afraid. 

“I love you.” 

And Alex kissed him again, even more tender than the first. His hands carded through Oliver’s hair and Oliver’s raked up and down his back. 

“Again,” Alex whispered. 

“I love you.” Oliver kissed his cheek. “I love you.” His jaw. “You’re amazing.” His forehead. “You’re so, so, so handsome.” His nose. “You are everything to me.” Oliver needed to make sure he knew. “I love you.” 

From their proximity, Oliver could almost pick out every freckle on Alex’s face and the blue in his eyes was stark against his skin. Gorgeous. And the tears gathering in the corners of those same eyes didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Thank you.” 

“I’ll say it as many times as you need me to,” Oliver promised, pressing a final kiss to his lips. 

“I love you, too.” 

“I know.”


End file.
